Rest and Tomorrow
by ShoshanaFlower
Summary: What’s left for a young, former weapons merchant? Enishi goes to Takefu to find a way to earn a living until he can formulate a better plan for his future. Involves old people, little girls, and rare appearances by cannon characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title : **Rest and Tomorrow

**Author: **ShoshanaFlower

**E-mail: **ShoshanaFloweratgmaildotcom

**Rating: **T

**Spoilers: **Jinchu arc

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Enishi or the Rurouni Kenshin series, and I am making no profit from this piece of fanfiction. I have, however, created all of the non-canon characters.

**Summary:** What's left for a young, former weapons merchant? Enishi goes to Takefu to find a way to earn a living until he can formulate a better plan for his future. Involves old people, little girls, and rare appearances by cannon characters.

* * *

Takefu.

I can smell the salt from the sea, though the water itself is beyond my sight. This seems like a good choice for now, though it's only a middling distance from the putrid city of Kyoto. Still, I'll stay here for a little while. Until I can figure out what I'm doing.

I only have a few days worth of honest pay with me, but that'll at least be enough for a night in an inn. Wandering the main street, I see one, small place that stands out to me. Away from the busier part of the city, it should at least offer me some solitude.

_I'm going to Kyoto. Don't expect me to come back. Take care of father._

I make my way up the stone path to the entrance of the building. As soon as I step inside, a scrawny girl scurries into the hall and greets me. She bows low and speaks so softly that I miss what she says.

"What?"

The brat shrinks back and repeats, "Welcome to the Shinju, sir. We hope you enjoy your stay here."

Immediately an older woman, the landlady, I assume, comes out, ignoring the girl, and gives me a polite welcome. I return it with the best of my ability. She looks a little too old to be the girl's mother, so maybe the child's just a servant who was surprised by my sudden appearance.

With full formality, the landlady leads me upstairs to a guest room. The little maid clambers behind us with a barely-folded yukata, which she timidly places in the room. The landlady wishes me a good rest, tells me when the evening meal is, and bows and politely excuses the girl and herself.

When they're gone, I close the shoji and glance about the room. The first thing I notice is the western desk. Its painfully over-carved surface draws all attention to it. And it's very stupidly placed, too, since there's no chair to go with it. I'm sick of western tables, chairs, desks, food, everything. If I wanted to live like a foreigner I'd move to the Occident. But, at least the desk is the only intruding thing in the room. Everything else seems fairly peaceful.

Though I won't be staying here for long, I can't see any sense in wearing wrinkled clothes. There's a stand in the room, so I take my other hakama out of my bag and drape it. Now the only things left in my plain travel bag are her diary and a tanto, each wrapped carefully. I leave them there.

_Go back home, Enishi._

There's a shoji leading to the second-story porch on the south wall. The only view is of the city. I don't care for cities much. Probably because I don't care for people much. And people in large numbers, festering together in close spaces ... I'd rather avoid the whole thing. But I need to think of something to do, and I might as well do it here in Takefu. Unlike Battousai, I'm not fond of wandering aimlessly for years at a time. I like to have a plan.

The evening is coming on quickly. I go back inside. My eyesight hasn't been good recently, so even in the twilight, I need a candle to see. I remember seeing one on top of the desk, but of course there are no matches in view. They're probably kept inside, so I search for the latch to open it. Instead, I accidentally open a small, hidden drawer at the top. It's perfectly disguised; the loops of the carvings interlock when the drawer is closed. I could run my hand over it and never know it's there. Abandoning the search for matches, I take her wrapped diary out of my bag, set it in the open drawer, and push it closed again. I look closer when it's shut; the drawer is impossible to see. Even though the owners probably know the drawer is there, it's still a much safer place than in my luggage bag.

Should I read some of the passages?

No. Not tonight. I don't need to read them anyway to have them repeat through my mind. I can't even sleep at night sometimes for the sound of her elegant handwriting, read aloud by her own voice. And still, with every line of her diary memorized, I don't understand it.

I'm tired. At least this bed smells clean. This graceless inn might be a decent place to rest after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Rest and Tomorrow

Chapter Two

That stupid girl is staring at me again. What part of my appearance does she want me to explain? "What is it?" I growl, hoping to frighten.

"You're not old ..."

The hair. "No. My hair turned white when I was young."

"Why?"

"Because I asked too many questions of my elders."

"What's that mean?"

"Suki," the old woman stands in the doorway of my room. "Leave Yukishiro-san alone." Obediently, the little girl runs off to the woman, who leads her away with an apologetic look to me. Seeing that the girl, Suki, I suppose, managed to bring my breakfast, she bows slightly, closes the door, and leaves.

I appreciate the silence. They've treated me like an invalid here. I guess I have that air about me. People see me and feel like I should be respected, no longer out of fear, but out of the kind of respect that comes from being old or crippled. People speak quietly around me, asking me if I need anything, keeping pesky little brats away from my solitude.

"Forgive me for disturbing you again, Yukishiro-san," a different, but still annoying voice calls from the hall "but my little sister forgot to bring your tea."

I tell her to come.

She holds only one cup, for me, and after she sets it in front of me continues to kneel by the table. By the way these two hover around me you'd think I was a relative come home from a journey with presents for good little nieces. I don't look up at her. She stays.

"Excuse me, Yukishiro-san," she begins.

"Yes?" I say without looking at her.

"Forgive me, but I was wondering, are you a samurai?"

I clench my throat closed to avoid choking in surprise. "I'm not old enough to be a samurai," I respond, wondering if she'll think I'm offended by the age insinuation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Then, I meant ... I meant are you the son of a samurai?"

Finally, I look at her. She's a little older than the other one, but she looks so similar they must be sisters. "What makes you ask?"

I can tell she's unsettled by my stare. "I didn't mean anything, just that ... I noticed your ... the way you look, and your hands ..."

I close my eyes. This girl is impossible. So easily flustered. "I'm not a samurai."

_You are the eldest son of the Yukishiro family ..._

She stood and bowed. "Forgive me."

I don't watch her leave, but I hear the door slide shut. Annoying girl.

- - - - -

I need to find work. I need to _look_ for work. I've never been lazy, but I can't seem to bring myself to get out of this place. I'm tired. Things are quiet here. Working would mean seeing other people, which is the last thing I want to do.

Even so, I dress, pack my small bag again, and go downstairs. I have no idea if I'm supposed to say goodbye or not. I need not have wondered, as the landlord, Kaijura-san I think his name is, stops me in the main hall.

"Thank you for staying with us, Yukishiro-san. Please come and visit us again."

"Of course," is all I say. I'd like to leave and avoid further communication, but I decide it would be practical to ask him if he knows of any place looking for workers.

His face brightens. "Ah. If you're interested, I have several jobs here that needs to be done."

"Yes?" I say, forcing myself to be polite.

"I'm getting to be an old man, as you can see. I can't clean the roofs anymore, and there are other things that need touching up around here as well. I can't pay much, but I'd gladly trade you board for your work."

I'd been hoping for money, but as I don't have anywhere else to stay tonight, I may as well accept. "I'd be glad to help," I lie.

He smiles again, and I notice the way his skin folds neatly into well-worn wrinkles. "Wonderful. Well, put your things back in your room; we can get started immediately."

- - - - -

For four days I repaired, repainted, and repatched the little inn. I quickly came to realize that I have no skill with a hammer or any of the other tools most men are better acquainted with.

I'm not inept, I almost wanted to tell him as he watched me make blunder after blunder. I could kill someone better than anyone you know.

Even so, on day five, he approaches me with a proposition.

"Yukishiro-san. There is something I'd like to ask you. I've thought about it and discussed it with my wife, and we've decided you're the right person. You see, this boardinghouse is very important to us and our daughters, but I cannot keep it forever. I have no apprentice and no ready heir."

Heir. I'm suddenly interested. This might be profitable after all.

"If you are willing, I would like to hire you for a few months to see if you can assume my business when I'm unable to work."

I keep my emotion out of my face. At least, I try. I was never very good at that. "That is a tempting offer, Kaijura-san. Will you allow me some time to consider it?"

"Of course. Take all of the time you need. I normally wouldn't ask something like this of someone I know so little about, but there is something unique about you, I can tell. You aren't greedy. Some of the men I house here have so much greed that I can see it dripping off of them. You must seek something higher, so I like you."

What a naive old man.


	3. Chapter 3

Rest and Tomorrow

Chapter Three

_ Our house is small, but it appears to be well-built. We spent the day yesterday moving in. I am not sure who lived here before us; I only know that Katsura-san arranged for us to_ _live here for an uncertain amount of time._

This inn seems too rooted down for me. But, it's the best I have for the time being. And I do have a mind for business. As soon as the old man shows me the books, I know what to change. "You're not charging enough. With these prices, you'll attract only the working people. Raise them just a little and you'll be housing more important men." He listens as though I were a sage. "Working people don't make many trips, but the rich are always traveling. Your establishment is good enough for businessmen and government officials, not just the commoners," I add by way of flattery. "The rich customers see your prices and think that your house isn't good enough for them."

One thing never fails: the vanity of the wealthy. Besides that, I've learned that the old man is eager to marry off his two scrawny little daughters. "Which would you rather have as a son-in-law;" I bait him, "a man who works in the dirt or a statesman?"

_The second son of a samurai_

He makes a few modest protests, but I know he'll do it.

For now, my job is simple. I'll need to keep the roofs clean and listen to the boarders' complaints, fix things when they break, and oversee the finances. But eventually, I'll handle the money myself. Meanwhile, the old woman takes care of all of the food and most of the cleaning. I imagine that the daughter they can't pass off to a husband will be left with that job.

- - -

For two weeks, I've been gradually taking over the tasks that the old man no longer wishes to do. As soon as the place is mine, I'll sell it and leave this town. Perhaps I'll even leave the country, though I don't know where I'd go. India, maybe. Right now I'm sitting down to a morning cup of tea on the back engawa. The family still treats me like a respected old man, and even the girls have begun to leave me alone in the mornings. There's a sudden commotion inside, but it doesn't sound like trouble, so I stay seated. One of the cats probably dragged in a half-live bird. I hear the old woman's voice and several feet coming this way. Then the door behind me is flung open and out comes the mother, her two little brats, and one woman I haven't seen before.

For once ignoring my presence, the mother and girls call for the old man, who stumbles, bewildered, from around the side of the building. When he sees the new woman, he smiles and nearly sprints toward her. It's only when they're all on the engawa that the old woman sees me.

"Oh, Yukishiro-san, forgive the intrusion. This is our eldest daughter, Machiko. We weren't expecting her for days more."

I didn't know they had another daughter. To be polite, I rise and bow to the woman. She bows in return.

"Machiko, how was the journey? How is your aunt? Did you meet anyone? Any nice young men?" they all throw questions at her as though I'm not there. The woman seems pleasant enough, smiling modestly and answering them all in turn. I turn back to my tea. After another few moments of questions, the old woman says, "And this is our new assistant, Yukishiro-san. He's come to help us with the place."

I look up when she says that and catch Machiko's pleasant expression as it drop a few degrees. When she looks at me she says, "I'm pleased to meet you, Yukishiro-san."

I guess she's not happy about me taking over the family business. Maybe I'm stepping on her toes. But if her parents want to leave the family business to a stranger instead of her, it's none of my concern.

- - -

Two mornings after her arrival, Machiko is in the kitchen drinking tea, standing in front of the window. She's only made enough tea for herself, so I ignore her and prepare my own. I suppose she doesn't have to work in the mornings like her sisters do. She's clearly the pride of the family. For as much trouble as the old people will have finding husbands for the younger two daughters, it's surprising they haven't matched this woman up yet. Unlike the brats, she seems polite and well-mannered. But maybe she can't cook. Maybe that's the real reason she isn't cooking breakfast for the guests right now. She looks up and I realize I was staring. So I look back into my cup.

_'It is impolite to stare, Enishi-chan'_

"My father seems to like you," she says suddenly.

I look at her again. "Your father is a generous man," She doesn't look pleased.

"He is sometimes too generous."

Was she mad at me for taking over the boarding house? "I'm sorry if I offend you, Machiko-san."

"You do not offend me any more than anyone else in your position would," she says plainly.

It was about the business, then. "You don't want your father to give up his boarding house to a stranger?"

"No, I don't."

"Then why not talk to him about it?" I say, picking up on her direct manner. Polite formalities are a bother.

"He doesn't want my advice. I have already offered it."

Well, what more is there to say than that? "I'm sorry you feel that way." Formalities again.

She doesn't say anything. I take my cup and leave.


	4. Chapter 4

Rest and Tomorrow

Chapter Four

I pack my bag again today. I've already told the Kaijuras I'll be away in Kyoto "on business." They're too polite to pry.

I can't believe how long it's been. A year. It's been a full year since I tended to her grave. A year since the madness in Tokyo, since losing everything, since setting eyes on _him._ Yet, sometimes, I forget that there was a life before the inn. Sometimes I wake and my first thought is not of Tomoe-neesan or Battousai, but of leaving my room before the guests do, or whether or not the bath needs to be cleaned. I've never had these thoughts before.

'_I'm not forgetting you, Neesan. You understand. I just need something new for a while. Something that doesn't have to do with Jinchu or death. At least for a little while. You understand, don't you? You forgot about it too sometimes, when you were living in the farmlands. It's the same thing.'_

Isn't it?

"You're leaving?" Machiko's direct voice arrests my attention. She's standing in the open doorway to my room, straight as the frame itself.

"Only for a few days," I reply, hoping to disappoint.

"To Kyoto?"

"How do you know that?" I demand, momentarily forgetting my aloof manner.

"My father mentioned it. What business do you have there?"

"None of _yours_." I hope that sounded rude. What right does this sneaking hannya have to ask me personal questions?

"What are you going to Kyoto for?" she persists. "To find buyers for our boarding house before you even own it?"

"To visit my sister's grave!" Why did I say that? She doesn't need to know my plans. But, I notice that she looks sorry for being so intrusive. Good. She should.

"Forgive me," she says, not ashamed, but certainly apologetic. She nods and retreats down the hall with mild dignity.

- - -

I pull the weeds up from the earth around the small stone. Arrogant, scrawny pieces of grass, roots, and dingy flowers stand against me, but their bravery is ignored. Stem and seed, I tear them out and leave them to burn in the sun. _'I'm doing better now, Neesan. I'll be able to make some money soon and leave this place. I don't know where I'll go or how long I'll stay away, but I need to leave for a while. Japan doesn't mean anything to me now. I'm sorry, I suppose I should have more pride in my country, but I don't. Don't be upset, though. I'll come back. There's just no place for me here right now. I don't belong anywhere. But I promise to keep your memory no matter where I go. And I'll come back.'_

All of the weeds have been eliminated and I sit back. She loved him, I suppose. I don't know how. Even though I've read it, I don't understand it. Her diary shows her sympathy for him, and that she cared for him willingly, but I still don't know why. The last entry, the one dated the day that she died ...

'_I'm trying to make you proud, neesan, but I don't know what you want me to do.'_

- - - - -

The old people welcome me back. So do the younger girls, but I imagine they were forced, because neither looks particularly happy to see me. Maybe I should have thought to bring them back something from the city. No. I'm not a benefactor. I thank them all and retire to my room. Machiko was nowhere in sight.

I set down my bag and begin to unpack. First my other set of clothes, then the short sword wrapped in layers of fabric, then money, and finally the diary. I had no reason to take it with me except that I wouldn't leave it far from me. I put it back inside the drawer of the Western desk, put the bag away and unfold my futon. I'm tired. I can't sleep on trains. I take hold of my folded blanket and drag it across my body. The family won't bother me until the next meal, whatever that is, so I can take a few hours of sleep for myself.

- - -

The middle daughter, Masa, wakes me.

"Yukishiro-san?" Her creaky voice travels through the door into my dreams and pulls me out of them.

"What?"

"Dinner is ready, Yukishiro-san," she responds.

"Thank you." I can hear her turn on the wood floor and walk down the stairs. I suppose I have to wake up now. The sky outside my window is nearly dark. I'll leave my bed the way it is then; there's no sense in putting it up at this hour. Pausing before the modest mirror, I straighten out my clothes and then head out of my room to dinner.

I no longer eat in my room. Kaijura-san invited me to start eating with the family in the room annexed to the kitchen, and I thought it would be wise to accept.

Machiko is there, of course. Our daily interactions are becoming sparse verbal sparring matches, but there's no malice behind them. At least, there is none on my part. She probably takes me as a much more serious threat than I take her. She has a personal stake in the boardinghouse, whereas I could really care less.

They've waited for me, so I take my place promptly. As always, Machiko is to my right. She didn't look up when I entered and she's not looking at me now. Perhaps I've won some little victory that I don't even know about. One of her parents probably dropped a bit of my praise in her presence. Maybe they've even begun to finalize plans about the sale of the inn. The meal passes calmy. No one interrogates me about my short trip or tries to engage me in conversation. The girls finish eating and immediately wash their plates. Afterwards, I can hear them head upstairs to remove the used dinner trays from the guest rooms. The old people are taking their time, as always. I finish and take my own plate and cup into the kitchen. No one protests this action anymore. Surprisingly, Machiko is right behind me and blocks my return to the eating area. She stares at me directly, but without her usual cool fire.

She's like a ghost the way she'll stand and stare at me without saying a thing. Although she's hardly less ghostly when she does speak. Her straightforward manner can be creepy when she employs it often enough.

"I want to talk to you."

"Go ahead."

"My parents plan to give you the inn, as you know," she says, speaking quietly. "Their plan is to have you manage it completely while they draw the profits for the next few years. After that time, after working without wages, you'll have 'bought' the business as far as they're concerned."

"And why are you the one who's telling me this?" I turn away and walk through the other exit, but she follows.

"After the place is yours, you plan to sell it. Is that right?"

I'm not sure what kind of trap she's setting me up for, so I'm not sure how to respond. "Why? Would that bother you?"

She exhales shortly. "My father is the son of a poor farmer. His father apprenticed him to a merchant who taught him what he knows about business. Later, my father was able to buy a small, burned house on a plot of land. It became this inn. Every room here my father built. My mother, too, was from a peasant family. She didn't even have a decent article of clothing to her name when she married my father. They lived hungry for want of money, because they spent every spare mon they had on this building."

I walk up the staircase, trying to ignore her, but she doesn't stop.

"As a child, I watched my parents work to draw in the money that we needed to live. Now, finally, after more than twenty years of my parents' sweat and worry, we have this business. I understand that it's not glamorous, but if you could see the burned patch of ground that it was–and for that matter if you could see the impoverished people my parents were–perhaps you'd have some inkling of our struggle."

I stop at the door to my room and wait for her to finish.

"When you sell the inn, my family will have to leave and live in a house that won't be their own. Do you understand this? You'll be taking away what my parents have built over the past twenty years." She pauses for effect. "Will you really do that?"

I don't think Machiko has ever said half so much to me at one time. "Look," I reply, "obviously they don't want to take care of it anymore. Why don't you take it over if you care so much?" I put my hand on the door frame, hoping she'll take the hint and leave me alone.

"Don't act callous. You know they're too old to provide the upkeep this house needs. So they found a young man to inherit it. My father is trying to give you the windfall he never received."

"You didn't answer me," I say, pleased to have caught her verbal sidestep. "Why don't you take the inn if your parents don't want it? Or why don't they wait for your little sisters to inherit it? You can hire some street urchin to clean the roof and do repairs." Judging by her rigid expression, I think I've won this little battle.

"I don't want the house. But you don't seem to understand, or perhaps you don't care, that this is my parents' entire lives. You can't just sell it out from -"

"Why not?" I step away from the shoji and stand squarely in front of her. "Why don't you want the house? You care enough about it. Isn't it you responsibility to take care of your parents? It certainly isn't mine, so don't try to put your duties off on me."

"It should be a duty of your conscience," she says quietly. "You're taking advantage of kind people and turning them out of their home."

"No. You're the daughter. I'm the entrepreneur.

You have your role and I have mine. How can you tell me that I'm wrong to sell it when you don't want it any more than I do?"

"Judge me all you want. You know that you're wrong to do this."

Damn shikome. "Well why are you talking to me? Go tell your parents what a terrible man I am."

"They don't believe it. They like you. You've charmed them, and they're too trusting anyway."

"I don't need to justify my actions to you," I say by way of a somewhat dignified retreat.

"No, you don't. But I won't let you take this inn."

That shouldn't have scared me, but it did. Something about her tone was so understated, but so sincere that I can't help but feel unnerved. "Do what you need to," I say, retreat into my room, and shut the shoji. I have no idea what Machiko intends, if she has a plan at all, but she might be a real challenge.

"Yukishiro-san."

She's still at my door. "What?"

"Why are you still going to sell this house after hearing what I've just told you?"

I slide the door open a few inches. "Because I don't want this house and I do need the money. Look, Machiko-san, I won't sell to just anyone. I'll make sure the new owner allows your parents to stay here, alright?"

"You know things don't work that way. My father took you in and you still don't feel like you owe him anything. Why would another stranger feel more?"

"I'm not trying to hurt them. I'm a businessman, Machiko-san. I do business. You're a daughter, so why don't you stay here and take care of your parents or find a husband who'll do it for you?"

I see her set her jaw. I hadn't meant to strike a chord in her. "Clearly," she says with reserve, "we have an unresolvable conflict of interest." She turns to leave.

"Machiko-san, I'm not trying to rob anyone of their livelihood, least of all your parents." She doesn't turn around and I wonder why I care about her parents or about what she thinks. I close my door again. I have to wonder what she'll do, though. For all I know, she could be the kind of person who would stab me in my sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Rest and Tomorrow

Chapter Five

_Himura-san didn't wake when I came into his - our room today. I find it increasingly difficult to remember that he is Kiyosato-sama's murderer. Perhaps it is because I came to find a monster and found only a boy who had exchanged his soul for the idea of a peaceful future. Even if I were to kill him, what would it do? I believe he already lives in a monotonous state of Hell._

_He didn't wake. He was asleep by the window, as he always sleeps, with his sword against his shoulder. I did not think, 'He is Kiyosato-sama's killer,' I only thought that he looked tired and that he must be cold, so I moved to cover him with my scarf. I could hardly understand what happened next until I was on the floor and he stood over me, his sword drawn. A half second before, that sword had been at my throat. I think he moved to kill me before he was even fully awake. But he recognized me quickly and pushed me away. When I looked at him I saw that he looked so frightened. Whether it was at the thought of killing me or at his own, deadly abilities, I don't know._ _He apologized and told me to leave._

_Thinking of what Katsura-san said to me last night, I told him I would stay to be a sheath for his madness._

_I no longer know why I am here._

_- - -_

Damn. Machiko sees me. And she's coming down the hall toward me. But at least she doesn't have her the contained, cool fire in her eyes.

"Yukishiro-san. My mother says you refused my father's offer."

"Yes." I look out to the garden and try to appear nonchalant about turning down ownership of the inn.

"Why?"

"Why do you think? I told you I'm not trying to ruin anyone's retirement. I'll find my money somewhere else."

She looks skeptical. Finally, I suppose she decides to believe me. "Thank you, Yukishiro-san. I had hoped you weren't as much of a cold-hearted businessman as you tried to act."

Ouch. "I don't know what you're going to do about the house now. I hope you can find a good apprentice."

"Perhaps one of my sisters' husbands," she says. After a pause, she asks "Will you stay with us long?"

"No, not for long. I need to find new work."

"I appreciate your sacrifice, Yukishiro-san. I know you've invested a lot of your time here with us. If my family can use any of our connections to help you, please let us know."

I find myself on the verge of smiling a little. I guess this is what it's like _not _to leave a trail of enemies behind me. "I will." As an afterthought, I add, "Thank you."

- - -

I don't really want to stay in this town any longer. I've started to pack my bag already this morning. Machiko offered her family's connections, but I doubt they'd be of any help to me. I've actually been entertaining the idea of fishing. I'd be rooted to Japan for the rest of my foreseeable life if I lived as lowly as that, but maybe being alone on the sea for hours a day would suit me better than a voyage to the barbaric West. After all, isn't the sea as far as one can get from the rest of the world?

Fishing is simple. You live in a house by the ocean, work every day, and sleep every night. I may have lived like a rich, stuffed pig for a while, but I didn't always. My family, despite our social rank, was simple. We didn't squander money or exalt ourselves above our position. Tomoe could have adorned herself like other women we knew (who ended up looking more like poor whores than the well-bred ladies they should have resembled), but she was astute in every aspect. I suppose I am too, now. I can gather all of my earthly belongings into one bag.

I really don't like people, so a largely secluded life would accommodate me well. As a fisherman I'd only have to deal with other people for a few hours a day before I could go home and be alone again. Of course, I would have to deal with the smell of fish all day long, but I could probably grow accustomed to that. I'll end up as the necessary, old, white-haired, hermit who lives in a shack at the edge of town. Stories will be made up about me to scare children. "If you stay out past your bed-time, Old Yukishiro will find you in the dark, take you back to his shack, and eat youཀ"

I'd like to be remembered that way.

When everything else is folded into my bag, I wrap her diary and slip it into its pocket.

_Go back home, Enishi._

What home? _'What home do you want me to go to? We don't have a home anymore, Neesan.' _I'm going to go even crazier if I don't figure out what it is she wants me to do soon. I need a plan, and tramping around the country for ten years isn't a plan. I just need to think.

I drop the bag on the floor and leave my room.

- - -

I would never have believed that I'd be the kind of man who could sit and do nothing like this. I suppose staring at the grass is just a step away from meditation, which has always been several staircases away from me. Of course, I can't just do this at any time. Only when I'm tired. But I've been tired a lot since Tokyo.

Tomoe never really tried to keep me still. I guess she thought it was pointless, and she was never one to waste effort. Only when it was necessary, such as when we had company, did she try to keep me from misbehaving.

_Try to be still now, Enishi-chan._

_Why do we have to eat with these people, Neesan? I hate boring dinners._

Why is it that I can finally take some peace in the smell of evening? I didn't kill him. I went against what she would have wanted by even trying to hurt him. Kamiya was right; my sister wanted him to live. After more than ten years of utterly wasted effort, a failed attempt on the life of a man my sister died to save, and a slew of other sins on my soul, why do I feel more restful than I have in fifteen years?

Why do I get to go on living like nothing ever happened?

Don't most normal men feel guilt over the things they've done wrong?

No. Forget it. It's too much to think about.

I crack my neck and stand up. A year ago, after I lost the hearing in my left ear, it took me a little while to be able to move without losing my balance. I usually compensate without thinking of it, but for some reason, now I don't, or I turn around too quickly, or perhaps I was too deeply involved in my contemplation of nothing. For whatever reason, I trip as soon as I turn around, barely catching myself before I fall on my face. When I pick myself up, I see the shadow-figure of Machiko, like an extra roof support on the porch. Was she watching me? I walk over to the doorway, and she looks at the floor. I say nothing and walk past her.

- - -

Damn. It's still dark.

I haven't been able to sleep tonight. Maybe it's close enough to the morning that I can just get up. But no, the moon shows that it's barely midnight.

I've lain awake for long enough, so I stand up, straighten my nightclothes and quietly walk downstairs. At the base of the stair, I can see a small light, probably from a candle, coming from the kitchen. I'm too curious not to look. There stands Machiko, stirring something on the stove. She looks up immediately.

"Oh, Yukishiro-san," she says, obviously surprised to see me. "Is ... anything wrong?"

All I can wonder is what the hell she's doing up this late when she wakes before the sun. Surely she isn't able to stay up like this every night. Neesan told me stories about demons who didn't need to sleep.

"No, nothing's wrong," I say. Then, because I feel the need to explain my prying presence, I add, "I just couldn't sleep."

Before I can fully leave the doorway, she calls me. "Wait."

I turn back and wait.

"Would you like some of this? It's good for sleep." I look at her, unanswering, and she continues, "It's no trouble to add a little more to the pot."

"I would like some."

She motions for me to sit at the little guest table she pulled out for herself. I do. She looks back to the pot on the stove. Her hair isn't in its customary braid, just looped into a slipknot. She's also in her sleeping yukata which is plain and white. So apparently, since she's making something to help her sleep, she doesn't normally stay awake to this hour. I briefly wonder what's keeping her up. Maybe the house. Her father refused the other bids, from what I've heard. Is this what she does? Stays awake and worries over her parents and her sisters? She's probably planning more than worrying, though, knowing what little I do of Machiko.

The smell of onion soup starts to fill the small room.

When it's done, she pours me some and sets the bowl in front of me. I hear my sister quietly urging my manners, so I say "thank you."

"It was no trouble."

I taste it. "It's good."

"Thank you."

Without warning, we fall to talking. If I gave her more credit, I would suspect her of feeding me a truth potion, because suddenly I'm talking to her about things I never speak of.

"Your sister raised you?" she asks for clarification.

"Mostly. My mother died when I was still an infant. Tomoe-neesan took care of me after that." I said her name. Machiko heard it. I can see her store that piece of information away in her mind. But, as usual, she doesn't say anything about it.

After that, I think it's time for me to go back to bed. I thank her again, noticing that I do feel sleepier. When I leave the room, she's washing the bowls.


	6. Chapter 6

Rest And Tomorrow

Chapter Six

Machiko's in the garden with the girls this afternoon. Her trousers are rolled up to below the knee and she's wearing a simple gi. Neesan gardened near the little house in the farmlands.

There are no guests yet today, and there were none yesterday either. Nothing needs to be cleaned or repaired, and the books are up to date. I suppose Machiko herded the little ones out here to keep them occupied. She looks up and catches me staring. I didn't realize I was doing it.

They're done before long, and walk past me to go inside. The girls look a little embarrassed to be seen dressed like farm hands, but Machiko stands so straight and calm that she somehow looks more dignified than in her kimono. Anyone would think he were looking at a displaced noblewoman, the way she carries herself. I don't know if I should feel offended by this ability or not, so I just step aside and let her and her sisters pass. The girls slip off their muddied shoes and head inside but Machiko, whose clothes are dirtier, pauses by the back shoji to brush her pants off.

"Your garden looks like its thriving," I say, though I have no idea why I felt like I needed to say anything.

"Thank you."

So she tends the vegetable garden out here with the little girls. Somehow I thought she'd be afraid of dirt, but given her family history, I suppose she often had to work hard when she was younger. Suddenly I wonder when and how she went to school.

She looks directly at me with no emotion I can distinguish. So I look back.

"You're welcomed to help if you ever want to," she says. "I don't mean that in any impolite way; gardening can simply be meditative. So, if ever you want to, you may." She slides off her outdoor shoes and steps inside as well, closing the shoji behind her.

I suppose that was kind of her. I've never grown anything before in my life, though, so I doubt I'll take her up on the offer.

- - -

Once, when I was very little, I got lost in the city. I didn't really realize I was lost at first, I thought Neesan was still close by until I turned to call her attention to something and I didn't see her. I looked around a little, thinking we were only separated by a short distance, but I couldn't find her. I suppose most normal children would have been frightened, but I didn't think there was any danger. I just continued to wander around, looking for her.

She found me. I can't remember how long we were separated. But I heard her calling me and I turned around to see where it was she'd gone. Of course I was surprised to see her looking so scared. Neesan never looked scared. But there it was, in traces around her eyes and in the muscles of her neck - fear.

"Enishi, where were you?" She didn't raise her voice. She never raised her voice.

I have no idea what I said, but after that she took me home. I couldn't understand why she was afraid. There had been no danger that I could see. So I asked her.

"I was afraid that you were lost," was all she said.

"Why were you afraid I was lost, Neesan? What if I had been lost?"

"Then I might have lost you forever, Enishi-chan. What would happen to us if we never saw each other again?"

"That wouldn't happen. How could that happen? You found me."

"We should be more careful next time, anyway."

That was all she said.

- - -

Odd how that memory came to me just now. But then, it's been a few years since I've done anything as 'common' as shop for myself in a market. I'm not even really here for anything. I just needed to get out of the inn today.

"Yukishiro-san."

I whirl around and try to conceal my shock at seeing Machiko. "Machiko-san. What a surprise." That sounded a little flat and insincere. I wonder if she's offended.

"I didn't know you had come out here today." Her voice is quiet, so I look to her face and see that she's looking at me. "If there's anything you wanted, you should have let one of my sisters know. We would have taken care of it."

"I'm just out here for the fresh air. In fact, I thought you'd have one of your little sisters shop for you."

She smiles a little. "They're not very good with money."

I suppose it would be polite of me to offer to help her with something. "May I walk with you?" I ask.

She nods. Our conversations were much more interesting when she disliked me. But that's probably just because I don't know how to hold a normal conversation with anyone.

"Masa's in a bad state today anyway," she comments.

What's the polite response to that? "Is she alright?"

"She's nervous. She'll be fifteen in two months. My parents seem very eager to find her a fiancé, you see. She overheard them discussing it."

I pity the poor guy who ends up with that little thing. "She seems younger than that."

"It's because she's so flighty."

"Oh." I want to ask her why _she's_ not married already. But I've been trying to be less rude lately.

"I feel I should warn you, my father has been hoping you'll take an interest in her."

My mouth falls open a bit. Was she joking at my expense? To recover, I say "He couldn't sell me the inn, so now he's trying to put the girl off on me?" I suppose that could have been obnoxious, but I notice a small, half smirk on her lips.

"I shouldn't expect you to have any interest. She's at least fifteen years younger than you, isn't she?"

Now that's insulting. "I'm not quite that old yet, actually," I say, curbing what would have been an even snottier tone. When I glance at her, though, I see that squirreling look in her face. Sly woman, she wanted to know my age. "I'm only twenty-five."

"Forgive me," she says, though there's not a trace of repentance in her voice.

"What about you?" I try to work up some of the familiar tension between us by posing a rude question.

"That's an inconsiderate thing to ask," she remarks without answering me.

"What do you mean? You asked me first."

"No," she says cooly. "I was talking about my sister."

"Of course. It's alright that you're older than me. I don't feel strangely about that."

By now I hope I've prodded her into anger, but she's not offended at all. She has the same strange, half-smirk on her face.

"I'm twenty-one."

So she was her parents' only child for six years. Suddenly I realize that I never offered to carry her packages. "Let me help you with those," I say, taking two of her three parcels.

"Thank you."

Again, like the other night when neither of us could sleep, we fall to talking. It's only when we reach the entrance to the inn that I realize I've walked back home with her. I look at her as we pause to take off our street shoes. She looks back at me. She doesn't smile, but she looks ... pleasant, and I realize that for the past twenty minutes I spent walking with her, I've felt calm.

She lowers her gaze and reaches for the parcels I've been carrying for her. Once she has them, she nods to me and moves down the hall toward the kitchen.

I no longer know why I'm here.

- - - - - -

Dinner was calm last night. No arguing, no weighted looks between Machiko and me.

This morning, like every morning, she's standing in the kitchen with her composed cup of tea. She looks up when I enter and offers to retrieve a cup for me. I thank her but decline the offer. As I stand on the other side of the window, and as she tilts her head forward toward her tea, I notice the ornament in her hair. It's simple, but I've never seen her wear one before. Her hair is still in her customary looped braid.

She looks up at me with the same gentle, smile-less expression, and suddenly I realize that she and I have some odd, unspoken secret between us. If I look at her or she at me, and all we do is share a look, that look has something to do with the other afternoon when we did nothing talk on the way home from the market. Yet it's not a secret that needs to be kept out of some kind of guilt or shame. It's just ... it thrives this way.

In the evening, I seek her out in her room. "Machiko-san?" I ask at her door. I hear her rise from the floor and walk to the shoji. It opens. "Yes?"

Some of the shorter strands of her hair have come out from her braid and linger behind her ears. "I'm going out to the temple. Would you like to come?"

"Yes. Give me a moment." The shoji slides close to the wall again and I wait. In another few moments, she slides the door, steps out, and slides it closed again. She's re-braided her hair. We make it through the hall and to the front step before she asks me about my unprompted invitation.

"Why are you going to the temple?"

I have no reason, really. I invented a place to go so I would have an excuse to walk with her. "It's a tranquil evening," I say. "I just wanted to walk."

We step out into the street and walk side by side, the sun lowering behind the houses to our right. "When I was little," she says after we've walked several yards, "My father used to take me walking to teach me meditation. He thought it would be too difficult for a little one to clear her mind while trying to remain still at the same time. He was right, I'm sure, but now that's the only way I can focus on nothing. That's why I spend time in the garden. I repeat the same thing row after row and I don't need to think about anything."

I look over at her. The sun reflects its light on the side of her face. I know that she's just told me something about another unspoken part of herself. I'd offer something in return, but I doubt I have anything. I could tell her about stealing my first sword or the repeated, meditative motions of slicing through former business partners, but I doubt that would be an adequate trade off. Or, I could tell her about ...

She notices the silence and doesn't look my way. The sunlight is orange now. It makes her hair look like she has gold streaks running through it. "I was never very still as a child," I look ahead and say. "Neesan tried to teach me things like that, but I rarely obliged her. I couldn't understand her patience." Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at Machiko.

"I would not have guessed that about you."

"Why?"

"You seem very patient."

"I learned from her, finally. I don't think I used the skill the way she wanted me to, though."

"Why?"

I won't answer her. It's not the time to talk about murder or plotting revenge. But she, predictably, doesn't accept my silence.

"Yukishiro-san?"

"My name is Enishi."

An unsettled silence amasses between us, but we reach the temple before I feel the need to say something. Leaving our shoes outside, I wait while she rinses her hands, then do the same. I follow her inside and kneel. As usual, when I close my eyes, my sister is there.

'_We are really a lot alike, Neesan. You plotted, didn't you? You devoted yourself to the single goal of killing him. Did I learn that from you? I know, if I did, I perverted the trait. You wouldn't have killed so many just to reach a single man. You didn't tunnel your vision. I guess that's why you saw whatever it is you saw in him. What do you see in your niichan? Tell me I'm at least a little better than him. I've killed, I've stolen the happiness from others, but tell me I'm just a little better than him?'_

She looks sad.

'_What, am I more like him than I am like you? Don't let that be, Neesan. Tell me, does his way work? You smiled for him, but you won't for me. Do you want me to repent like him? But he killed you. I tried to help you. I tried to save you from him. How can you have smiled for him but not for me? What do you want me to do?_

'_Why did you choose him? Why save him? Just because he was able to make you happy? I don't understand how he ever made you happy. The girl, Kamiya, I could understand her. She's a fool. But how could you look at him, with your fiancé's sword still staining his face, and choose to save him?_

'_Neesan, will it take me ten years to repent for all of these sins? Will you ever forgive me? I was trying to avenge your death. No ... was it really just revenge? Revenge for myself from what he stole from me? But what was your motivation then? I don't understand. I don't understand what you want me to do ...'_

"Enishi-san?"

Machiko. Of course, she's waiting for me to walk back. The only sign of the sun is a fading, rose-colored line in the western horizon. I stand up and leave the temple with her and we walk back in the dark.

"Your sister?" she asks after we walk in silence for a few minutes.

"Yes."

"You look unhappy."

I don't respond.

"If I may ask, how long ago did she die?"

"Fourteen years."

She's silent again.

"She's displeased with me." Again, I don't know why I say such things to Machiko.

"For what?"

A few people straggle along their way home, but the streets are largely deserted. Except for Machiko's listening ears, it's safe to say. "She was killed. In front of me, by her husband. An assassin. I've spend my entire life, since then until about a year ago, planning my revenge on him. But, she didn't want me to hurt him. When he slew her, she was trying to save his life. I've spend my life trying to destroy what my sister sought to preserve."

I suppose that garbled monolog didn't make much sense. Another long silence before she says, "Enishi-san ... Is that what burdens you?"

"What? I suppose so." I don't know precisely which burden she's referring to. But I have been undeniably slow lately. She doesn't say anything else until we arrive at her house. Before we go inside, she stops and faces me. She looks sad, too, for a moment. Then her face softens a little and her lips curve minutely. "Thank you for asking me to go with you."

The instant is like the ones earlier in the day when we'd see each other's eyes and know a secret. I don't know what she's sharing with me, I only know it's something.

She turns away from me and goes inside, pausing inside the doorway to slide her geta off. Inside, the youngest sister calls to her, and she leaves my sight.

- - -

Watching the city is like watching the ocean in some ways. A city is more focused, more finite, and obviously more human, but staring at it can accomplish the same thing. Like Machiko said earlier about how she works in the garden, repeating the same action over rows of earth, I now stare at the waves of rooftops to think of nothing. Never for very long, but for a few moments in the day, I would stare at the ocean think of nothing at all. No revenge, no death, no life. Just the numbing absence of every thought.

Here I have only the city to look at tonight. But, I have a feeling that permeates my lack of thought, and I can't name it. Only that it has something to do with whatever wordless secret Machiko sent to me an hour earlier in front of the house. I thought that I never thought of anything when I stared into the tides, but now I'm aware of the lack of something that I've had for a very long time.

I don't know what it is. Or was.

It reminds me of the day when I'd finally healed from the last wound from Himura's blunt blade and I could breathe at last without a pain in my chest.


	7. Chapter 7

Rest And Tomorrow

Chapter Seven

Machiko smiles at me. Every time I see her, if she doesn't smile just a little, she looks happy. I suppose now that I'm not harming her precious house, she has no more reason to dislike me.

She's in the kitchen ironing guest clothes for the next day. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat of the fire she's using to heat the iron. Why is that suddenly attractive to me? She looks up at me, sets the iron aside and wipes the damp hair strands away from her face.

"Hello," she says.

When was the last time I cared about someone?

That's what this is, isn't it?

She died fourteen years ago. And I suppose it's been that long since I've cared about the existence of another human being.

That. Is pathetic.

She's staring at me. "Oh, hello."

"Did you need something?"

Why did I come in here?

She carefully leans over the guest robe spread on the mat and smooths it with her hand, searching for any hidden wrinkles.

I'm really surprised at my own lust. I didn't think I had any.

"I ..."

She stops and looks back up at me.

"Machiko-san, where do you plan to go?"

Now she looks puzzled.

"I mean ... do you plan to stay here forever? Live with your parents in the inn? Aren't you going to get married someday?"

She sets the iron on the hearth and sits back on her knees, then looks down. "Yukishiro-san, I don't believe that's any of your business."

I said it wrong. "No, Machiko - answer me." At Neesan's reproach, I add "please." Even so, she doesn't look up or give any hint she'll answer. "I'll buy the inn. Your father hasn't found any one else yet. I'll indenture myself to him and stay here. Listen, Machiko, I'll stay in Takefu and help your family keep their home."

"Your charity is appreciated, but not necessary."

"Listen!" I shout, at once kneeling to face her and slamming my hand down. She looks up, and clearly isn't pleased by my display. "Listen," I say again, calmer. "It's not charity. I want to stay here. I don't like this city. I don't like people. I don't even really like this inn. But I ..."

She's looking stern. What did I plan to say? No. She doesn't want to hear. But what then? "You're the only good thing I've wanted in eleven years. I ... forget things around you. I forget about my sister's murderer when I'm near you." She isn't looking happy. Why not? I thought she liked me. She walked to the temple with me. She even smiled at me. "Machiko ..."

She turns away from me, picks up the iron, and turns back to the already-pressed robe.

This isn't right. I misinterpreted something. I feel disoriented, like I've lost my balance but I haven't. I stand up, surprised that I can, and step backwards out of the doorway.

She doesn't look up. I feel sick. I need to get to my room. The stairs are clear; it's too early for guests.

I slam the shoji once I'm in, crawl to the desk, take out her diary.

_Neesan, what happened? What did I do wrong? What? Does she know about me? You knew about Battousai. You knew__! __I tried to be happy. I tried to be happy when I've taken the happiness from so many others. When you're not happy. Is that it? I'll try to repent. I'll take care of the Kaijuras for their whole lives. They can keep their inn. I said they could keep it. I already said it. Is it Tousan? Do I need to take care of him? I'll find him again. I'll bring him back here. What do I need to do? Tell me, Neesan. Please. Please, I'm so tired. I just want to rest, Neesan. Please, I just want to rest ..._

The middle girl wakes me again. This time, she's kneeling by my bed. No, I'm not in bed; I'm on the floor. She's frightened.

"Yukishiro-san?"

"Masa." I try to sit up.

"Forgive me for intruding, but you didn't answer. Are you sick?"

My shoulder hurts. "No, Masa-chan. I'm fine." I'm still holding the diary.

"Well, then, dinner is ready."

I can tell she doesn't believe I'm fine. I used to be a good liar. "I'm not hungry. Tell your parents thank you anyway."

She eyes me for a moment longer, and I can see her mind trying to decide if she should believe me or call for a doctor. Ultimately, she bows and leaves.

I need to leave this place. I'll find the fishing village and never bother anyone again. But I won't repent. I don't care what that means for me or my soul - I'll live with my sins.

I'll go tonight. I'll leave Kaijura what little money I have left and disappear. I'm good at disappearing.

- - -

I've waited; the house is asleep. My room is clean. By tomorrow night someone else will be in it. The little girl, Suki, will have washed the bedclothes, and Masa will have laid everything out fresh and clean for the new guest. On the futon, a new robe, still warm from the iron.

Battousai had my sister - my _sister_ - to love him. He, the demon assassin of the rebellion, at the height of his evil, found sympathy in a never-married bride widowed by his hand. What did he deserve?

I open the shoji slowly to keep quiet. I know the house well enough that I don't need light.

What did I ask for? Not her honor. Not even for marriage. Just her time. Just something to make me forget. I didn't even ask for happiness. Just rest. Just a little rest.

I never noticed how the stairs creak. I would try to fix them if I were staying. The floors creak too, though I doubt I could -

I'm just standing. Waiting, like a stupid child, for someone to stop me. As though I can't take care of myself and need _Machiko_ to hold my hand. I'm done resting. Waiting. Sitting around looking for something to happen.

I am leaving this goddamn island.


End file.
